from the bottom of my heart and soul FUCCKKKK the WNBA, FUCKKKK the NBA. FUCKKKKK adam silver, FUCKKKK cathy engelbert. FUCKKKK the new york liberty. and FUCKKKKK israel and zionists.
tash deserves so much better. for a league that prides itself in being on the right side of history, yall are going to end up in the same fucking hell as hitler and netanyahu.
A/n lmk if yall like this cuz ive never written smut like this before
°•○☆○•°
The air in the draft hall crackled, a live wire humming with anticipation. You sat on the round table , a familiar calm settling over you despite the frantic energy swirling around Azzi. Her leg bounced under the table, a nervous rhythm against the crisp black tablecloth.
Her eyes, usually so bright and focused, darted around the room, catching yours for a fleeting moment before skittering away. You reached across the table, your fingers finding hers, a silent anchor in the storm.
"You got this, baby," you murmured, your thumb tracing the back of her hand. Her grip tightened, a fleeting squeeze that spoke volumes.
The commissioner’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, a theatrical pause stretching the moment thin. You watched Azzi's chest rise and fall, a shallow breath catching in her throat.
"With the first pick in the 2026 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select…" The words hung in the air, a collective gasp rippling through the room.
Your heart thrummed a powerful beat against your ribs, not for you, but for her. You saw her shoulders tense, her whole body leaning forward, a predator poised to strike.
"...Azzi Fudd from the University of Connecticut!"
A roar erupted, deafening and joyous. Azzi’s head snapped up, a disbelieving smile blooming across her face. Her eyes, wide and glistening, found yours again, holding them this time.
Pure elation washed over her features, a radiant glow that made your own smile widen. She launched herself from the chair, a blur of motion, embracing her family first, then turning to you.
She practically tackled you, her arms wrapping tight around your neck, burying her face in your shoulder. "I did it," she whispered, the words muffled against your skin, thick with emotion.
Her body trembled, a mixture of adrenaline and relief. You held her close, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, feeling the fierce joy radiating from her.
"I know, baby. I knew you would." You pulled back, just enough to cup her face in your hands. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "You earned every bit of this." You kissed her forehead, a soft, lingering press of your lips. The cameras flashed, a strobe light symphony around you, but in that moment, only she existed.
The whirlwind began.
Interviews, photos, quick congratulations from league officials.
You stood by her side, a quiet pillar, letting her bask in her moment. Her energy was infectious, pulling you into the joyous chaos.
She moved with a newfound confidence, a swagger in her step, the weight of expectation replaced by the lightness of achievement.
Hours later, the draft hall emptied, the energy shifting to an exclusive rooftop after-party overlooking the glittering New York skyline. The city lights stretched endlessly, a vibrant tapestry beneath a velvet sky.
Music throbbed, a low pulse beneath the murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. Azzi, still buzzing, navigated the crowd like a seasoned pro, a glass of champagne in her hand.
She laughed, a bright, melodic sound, leaning into a teammate you’d introduced her to. You watched her, a proud warmth spreading through your chest. She was home now, even if it was just for the night.
This was her new beginning, and you were right there with her. She caught your eye from across the room, her smile widening, a silent invitation.
You excused yourself, weaving through the stylish crowd. Her hand found yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you reached her. "This is insane," she breathed, her voice a little hoarse from all the talking. Her eyes, still bright, reflected the city lights. "I'm a dallas wing."
"You are," you confirmed, squeezing her hand. "And you're going to be incredible." You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. The scent of her perfume, a light floral, mingled with the celebratory champagne. "Ready to get out of here?"
She looked at you, a knowing glint in her gaze. "More than ready." Her fingers tightened around yours, a silent plea.
You led her through the throng, her hand a warm presence in yours, her body a comforting weight against your side.
The cool night air hit you as you stepped onto the street, a welcome contrast to the humid warmth of the party.
The ride back to your hotel was quiet, a comfortable silence punctuated by the hum of the car. Azzi leaned her head against your shoulder, her eyes closed, exhaustion finally catching up to her.
You stroked her hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. The adrenaline of the day slowly receded, leaving behind a profound sense of peace.
You stepped into your hotel suite, the soft glow of lamps casting long shadows. Azzi walked straight to the window, gazing out at the city below. Her silhouette was framed against the twinkling lights, a picture of quiet contemplation.
She turned, her expression unreadable in the dim light.
"It's really happening, isn't it?" Her voice was a low murmur, almost a whisper. She moved towards you, her steps slow and deliberate.
Her hands reached for your waist, pulling you gently closer. Her gaze, dark and intense, searched yours.
"It is," you affirmed, your voice equally soft. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her flush against your body. The soft fabric of her dress brushed against your skin. Her head tilted back, her lips parting slightly.
"I need you," she breathed, her eyes never leaving yours. Her fingers tangled in the hair at your nape, pulling you down.
Her lips met yours, tentative at first, then deepening with a hungry urgency. The kiss was a torrent of unspoken emotions—relief, joy, longing, and a fierce, undeniable love.
Her mouth tasted of champagne and something uniquely hers, a sweet, intoxicating flavor. Your tongues met, a slow, sensual dance, exploring every curve.
She moaned softly into your mouth, a sound that vibrated through your entire body. Your hands slid down her back, tracing the elegant curve of her spine.
You broke the kiss, just barely, your lips still brushing hers. "You're amazing," you whispered, your voice rough with desire. Her cheeks flushed, a deeper red spreading across her skin. Her eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, held a raw vulnerability you cherished.
"Tell me again," she murmured, her breath warm against your lips. Her fingers dug into your shoulders, holding you captive.
Her body pressed closer, molding itself against yours, a silent plea. You felt the delicious tremor run through her.
"You're the best, baby. The absolute best." Your words were a low growl, meant only for her. Her lips curved into a small, pleased smile.
you kissed her again, deeper this time, your tongue plunging into her mouth, claiming it. She met your intensity, her body arching into yours.
You moved together, a slow, deliberate dance towards the bedroom. Her dress, a pink slip of fabric, felt cool against your skin as your fingers found the zipper.
You pulled it down slowly, the sound a soft rasp in the quiet room. The dress pooled at her feet, revealing the delicate lace of her bra and panties.
"Beautiful," you breathed, your gaze sweeping over her. Her skin glowed in the dim light, smooth and inviting. Her breasts, full and round, strained against the lace.
Her stomach was flat, her hips gently flaring. She stood before you, a vision of pure, unadulterated desire.
She shivered, a delicious tremor. "Don't just look," she whispered, her voice husky. Her hands reached for your shirt, tugging at the buttons. You watched her fingers work, slow and deliberate, until the fabric parted. She pushed it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
You shed the rest of your clothes quickly, eager to feel her skin against yours.
Naked, you pulled her back into your arms, reveling in the sensation of her bare body pressed against yours.
Her soft curves yielded to your hard planes, a perfect fit. Her breath hitched, a small, involuntary sound.
"You feel so good," she murmured, her hands exploring your back, tracing the muscles of your shoulders. Her touch sent shivers down your spine.
You lowered your head, trailing kisses down her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. She arched into you, exposing more of her throat.
You're mine tonight," you declared, your voice deep and possessive. Her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips. Your teeth scraped gently against her collarbone, eliciting another delicious sound.
You felt her nipples harden against your chest, reaching your hand down and rubbing one of the..
You then scooped her into your arms, carrying her easily to the bed. She giggled, a light, carefree sound, wrapping her legs around your waist. You laid her down gently on the cool sheets, hovering over her. Her eyes, wide and expectant, gazed up at you.
"What do you want, princess?" you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of her jaw. Her breath hitched again. Her hips bucked slightly, a silent demand. You felt the heat radiating from her, a palpable warmth.
"Everything," she rasped, her hands pulling you closer. "I want everything from you." Her legs parted slightly, an open invitation.
You leaned down, kissing her deeply, pouring all your longing and adoration into the embrace. Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you tight.
Your hand drifted down, finding the soft lace of her panties. You hooked your fingers into the waistband, slowly peeling the fabric down her thighs. She lifted her hips, eager to be free of the last barrier. The panties landed on the floor, a small heap of silk.
Her pussy was already wet, glistening in the dim light, a dark, swollen bud peeking through.
The sweet scent of her arousal filled your senses. You leaned down, kissing the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. She bucked against your hand, desperate for your touch.
"So wet for me already," you purred, your voice a low murmur against her skin. Her body trembled, a delicious response. You spread her legs wider, kneeling between them. Her clit, a small, sensitive pearl, pulsed with anticipation.
You lowered your head, your tongue tracing the curve of her sowllen folds. She cried out, a sharp, sudden sound. Her fingers gripped the sheets, knuckles white. Your tongue found her clit, circling it lightly, then pressing down, sucking gently.
She arched her back, a guttural moan tearing from her throat. "Oh god," she whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed. Your mouth worked magic, a slow, steady rhythm of licking and sucking. Her body convulsed under your ministrations, her legs shaking.
"That's it, baby," you encouraged, your voice thick with desire. "Let it go." You felt her tremble, her muscles tightening. Her hands fisted in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper into her. Her cries grew louder, a symphony of pleasure.
Her orgasm hit her like a wave, a powerful, shuddering release. Her whole body tensed, then relaxed, a long, drawnout sigh escaping her lips.
You kept your mouth on her, tasting her sweetness, until her tremors subsided. You pulled away, her eyes glazed over, her breathing ragged.
"Good girl," you praised, kissing the inside of her thigh. She whimpered, still reeling from the intensity. Her eyes slowly focused on yours, filled with a mixture of awe and adoration. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed.
"You're incredible," she whispered, her voice still shaky. She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "I can't believe you just did that." A soft laugh escaped her, a joyous sound.
"You deserve it," you told her, your voice unwavering. You leaned down, kissing her deeply, tasting the lingering sweetness of her climax on her lips.
Her body was still humming, a beautiful aftershock. You wanted to prolong this feeling, to stretch it out indefinitely.
You reached for the nightstand, pulling out a small, leather-bound case. Azzi's eyes widened, a curious glint in their depths.
You opened it, revealing the sleek, black strap-on nestled inside. Her breath hitched, a soft gasp.
"You like this, princess?" you asked, your voice low and husky. You watched her face, searching for her reaction. A slow smile spread across her lips, a mischievous spark in her eyes. Her hips twitched, a subtle movement.
"Yes," she breathed, her voice barely audible. Her gaze fixated on the toy, then flickered back to your face. "I love it." Her hands reached out, tracing the smooth curve of the silicone. Her fingers trembled slightly.
You applied a generous amount of lube, coating the shaft until it gleamed. Her eyes followed your every movement, a hungry intensity in their depths.
You positioned yourself between her legs, the strap-on hovering just above her pussy. She whimpered, her body arching towards it.
"Ready for me?" you asked, your voice a low growl. Her head nodded vigorously, her eyes pleading. You pressed the tip against her opening, feeling the warmth and wetness of her. She gasped, her fingers digging into your hips.
You pushed slowly, inch by agonizing inch. She cried out, a guttural sound, as the head slipped inside. Her muscles clenched around you, tight and welcoming.
You paused, letting her adjust, giving her time to stretch. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
"So fucking tight," you praised, your voice thick with desire. "Feel how good you feel around me?" She moaned, her hips rocking slightly, urging you deeper. You pushed again, slowly, deliberately, until you were fully buried inside her.
Her body shuddered, a full-body tremor. She wrapped her legs around your waist, pulling you down, impaling herself on you. Her pussy gripped you tightly, a warm, wet embrace.
You began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm, feeling the exquisite friction.
"Oh god, yes," she gasped, her voice raw. Her hands clutched your back, her nails digging into your skin. You felt your clit rub against the base of the strap , sending fresh waves of pleasure through you.
Her hips lifted, meeting your thrusts, a primal dance.
you picked up the pace, your thrusts growing harder, deeper. The bed creaked with your movements, a rhythmic symphony.
Her moans grew louder, more frantic, mingling with the wet, slapping sounds of skin against skin. Her body was a tempest, writhing beneath you.
"You're so good," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "My little slut." Her breath hitched, a sharp gasp. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and glazed, staring up at you.
A flicker of something primal, something deeply satisfied, crossed her features.
"More," she begged, her voice strained. "Give me more, please." Her hips bucked furiously, demanding your attention. You obliged, plunging deeper, faster, feeling the delicious slide and pull. Her whole body was slick with sweat, glistening in the dim light.
You felt her muscles clench around you, a powerful wave of cockinessfilling you.
Her cries escalated, a desperate plea. Her legs tightened around your waist, holding you in place. She arched her back, her body trembling violently, on the precipice of another orgasm.
"Let it go, baby," you urged, your voice a command. "Cum for me." You hit that spot again and again, sending her over the edge. She screamed, a long, drawn out cry, her body convulsing around you. Her pussy squeezed you tight, milking every last drop of pleasure.
You held her close, letting her ride the wave, feeling her tremors slowly subside. Her head fell back against the pillow, her breathing heavy and ragged.
Her body was spent, but a soft smile played on her lips. You pulled out slowly, the sound a wet pop, leaving her aching for more.
"Still want more?" you whispered, kissing her damp forehead. She nodded weakly, her eyes still hazy with pleasure.
You rolled onto your side, pulling her against you, spooning her close. Her ass pressed against your hips, soft and inviting.
You reached between her legs, your fingers finding her clit, still swollen and sensitive. You began to tease it gently, a light, circling motion. She whimpered, her body reacting instantly. You felt her pussy clench and relax against your fingers.
"Oh god," she breathed, her voice still raspy. "Please." Her hips began to rock back against your hand, seeking the pressure. You pressed down, massaging her clit with your thumb, while your fingers explored her folds. Her breath hitched.
Her moans grew louder, a soft litany of pleasure. You felt her body tense, her muscles tightening under your touch. She whimpered, her ass pressing harder against you.
You continued your ministrations, a slow, steady rhythm, pushing her closer to the edge.
"Almost there, princess," you whispered in her ear, your voice a low rumble. She cried out, her back arching, her body convulsing once more. Her internal muscles squeezed around your fingers, a powerful, beautiful sensation. She rode the wave, her breath catching in her throat.
When her tremors finally subsided, you pulled your fingers away, leaving her gasping for air.
You rolled her onto her back, her eyes still glazed with pleasure. You kissed her deeply, tasting the lingering sweetness of her arousal. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed.
"You're insatiable," you murmured, a fond smile playing on your lips.
She giggled, a soft, contented sound. Her hands reached up, pulling you down for another kiss. Her body was still humming, radiating warmth.
"Only for you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes, now clear, gazed up at you, filled with a profound love.
You knew in that moment, as the city lights twinkled outside and her body melted into yours, that this was just the beginning of your forever.
Where theyre committed to eachother, just not to you.
°•○☆○•°
The room is too quiet.
Not in a peaceful way—more like the kind of quiet that presses against your ears until you start noticing everything else. The hum of the mini fridge in the corner. The faint sound of people laughing somewhere down the hall. The uneven rhythm of your own breathing as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to slow it down, trying to make yourself feel… normal.
You’re lying between them. Between Paige and azzi and somehow, you’ve never felt more alone.
The sheets are tangled around your legs, still warm, still carrying the weight of what just happened. Paige is on your right, already halfway off the bed, sitting up as she drags a hoodie over her head like this is just another night. Like you’re just another thing to move on from. Azzi’s on your left, scrolling through her phone, her thumb moving lazily across the screen, her expression unreadable.
No one says anything.No one reaches for you.No one even looks at you.
You swallow, your throat tight, and shift slightly, the mattress dipping under your weight. For a second, you think maybe one of them will notice. That one of them will turn, pull you back in, press a kiss somewhere soft and grounding, remind you that this isn’t just… physical.
But nothing happens.
Paige stands, stretching like she’s shaking off the moment entirely. “I’m starving,” she mutters, more to Azzi than to you. “We still got those snacks from earlier?”
Azzi hums, not even glancing up. “Yeah. Check the drawer.”
That’s it.Like you’re not even there.
Your chest tightens, something sharp and uncomfortable curling under your ribs. You push yourself up slowly, pulling the blanket with you, trying to cover the way you suddenly feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with skin.
“Hey,” you say. Your voice comes out softer than you meant it to. Neither of them responds right away.
Paige’s back is to you as she digs through the drawer. Azzi’s still on her phone. You press your lips together, then try again, louder this time. “Hey.”
Azzi finally glances over, brows lifting slightly like you’ve just interrupted something important. “What?”
Not what’s wrong. Not you okay. Just…what.
For a second, you almost drop it. Almost swallow the feeling down like you always do, pretend it doesn’t bother you, pretend you’re fine being this version of yourself.
the one that fits into their lives only when it’s convenient.
But something in you snaps a little.“I just…” You shift, pulling your knees up slightly, gripping the edge of the blanket. “Can you guys just—like—stay for a second?”
Paige turns around at that, a snack bar in her hand, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “We are staying.”
“That’s not what I mean.”Your voice comes out sharper now, and you see the way they both notice it. The way the air shifts, just slightly, tension creeping in where there was nothing before.
Azzi sits up a little straighter. “Then what do you mean?” You look between them. At Paige, who’s leaning against the desk now, already half-distracted. At Azzi, who’s watching you but not really seeing you, her expression guarded in a way that makes your stomach twist.
And suddenly, it all feels stupid.
Saying this. Wanting this. Expecting anything more than what they’ve already shown you they’re willing to give.
But you say it anyway.
“I mean… can you just be here? With me?” Silence. A beat passes then Paige exhales, rubbing the back of her neck. “We are here.”
“No, you’re not.” The words come out faster now, before you can stop them. “You’re–” you gesture vaguely between them, frustration building, “you’re already over it. Like it didn’t even happen.”
“That’s not true,” Azzi says, but there’s something defensive in her tone.
You shake your head. “Then why does it feel like it is?” Neither of them answers.And that hurts more than if they had.
You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands, twisting the fabric of the blanket between your fingers. “I just… I don’t get it.”
Paige shifts her weight. “Don’t get what?”
“This.” You look up again, meeting her eyes, then Azzi’s. “Us.”Another silence but its longer this time. Heavier. You can feel your heart starting to pound now, each beat louder than the last, like it’s trying to warn you to stop before you say too much. Before you push too far.
But you’re already there.
“I mean, what are we even doing?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but steadier. “Because it feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t know.”
Azzi’s jaw tightens slightly. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Have we?” you shoot back. “Because I don’t remember ever actually getting an answer.”
Paige exhales again, this time more impatient. “We said we’re just… going with it.”
“Yeah,” you nod, a humorless laugh slipping out, “you are.” The room goes still for a moment. You can see it now—the way they both start to close off, the way their expressions shift from neutral to guarded, like you’ve just stepped into territory they don’t want to deal with.
But you can’t stop. Not now.
“I don’t want to just go with it,” you say, your voice cracking slightly despite your effort to keep it steady. “I don’t want to feel like I’m just… something you come back to when it’s easy.”
“That’s not what you are,” Paige says quickly.
“Then what am I?”
And just for a second, she hesitates but it tells you all you need to know. It’s enough to make your stomach drop, to make something cold settle deep in your chest.
Azzi looks away first. And that–somehow–that’s what really does it.
Because if it wasn’t true, if you were wrong, if you mattered the way you want to believe you do… They wouldn’t be struggling this hard to say it.
Your grip on the blanket tightens. “I just want to know if this is ever going to be more than this.”Your voice is barely above a whisper now.But in the silence of the room, it feels loud.
Paige and Azzi exchange a glance. It’s quick. Mostly subtle but you catch it,and suddenly, you know. Even before they say anything. Even before the words actually come out.
Your chest tightens as you watch them, waiting, hoping, stupidly, painfully hoping—that maybe you’re wrong.
That maybe they’ll surprise you.
Azzi looks back at you, her expression softer now, but not in the way you want.
More like… careful.
Like she’s about to let you down gently.
And that’s when it really sinks in.
Something inside you starts to crack.The silence stretches too long.
You can feel it settling into your bones, heavy and suffocating, like the answer is already there. just sitting between the three of you, waiting to be said out loud.
Azzi Fudd is the one who finally exhales.
It’s quiet, almost hesitant, like she’s choosing her words carefully. And somehow, that makes it worse.
“Look…” she starts, sitting up straighter, her phone now forgotten beside her. “It’s not like that.”
Your stomach twists. “Then what is it like?”
She glances at Paige Bueckers for a second, like she’s checking something unspoken, then looks back at you.
“We just—” she pauses, then tries again, “we’re not really… in a place to make anything serious right now.”
There it is. It's not harsh nor cruel. But its not what you needed, not even close.
You let out a quiet laugh, the kind that slips out before you can stop it. “You’re not in a place to make anything serious?”
Paige shifts where she’s leaning, her arms crossing over her chest. “You’re twisting it.”
“Am I?” Your voice sharpens, disbelief creeping in. “Because it sounds pretty clear to me.”
“It’s not about you,” Paige adds quickly, like that’s supposed to fix it. “It’s just—our situation is already… a lot.”
You blink at her. “Your situation?”
She gestures vaguely between her and Azzi. “Yeah. Us.”
And that’s when something inside you really snaps. Because of course. Of course they are a “real” thing. Of course their relationship is valid, established, worth protecting.
And you?
You’re just… extra. Something undefined. Something temporary.Something they don’t have to choose.
You shake your head slowly, trying to process it, but the more you think about it, the more it burns. “So let me get this straight,” you say, your voice dropping, steadier now but colder. “You can be committed to each other… but not to me.”
Neither of them answers right away.
And that silence? It says everything.
Azzi’s the one who breaks first, her voice softer now, almost careful. “It’s not that we don’t care about you.”
You laugh again, but this time there’s no humor in it at all. “You hear how that sounds, right?”
“We do care,” Paige insists, pushing off the desk, stepping a little closer like she’s trying to close the distance. “We just don’t want to mess things up by putting labels on it.”
“Things are already messed up,” you shoot back, your grip tightening on the blanket. “You just don’t have to feel it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is me lying here thinking this actually means something,” you say, your voice rising now, emotion finally spilling over. “And then the second it’s over, you act like I’m just—like I’m not even here.”
“That’s not what we’re doing,” Azzi says, but she sounds less sure now.
“Then what are you doing?” you demand. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you get everything you want–each other, and me–without ever having to actually choose.”
That hits them hard.You can see it in the way Paige’s jaw tightens, in the way Azzi looks down for a second, like she doesn’t want to meet your eyes anymore.
Good. Let them feel it.
Let them feel even a fraction of what’s been sitting in your chest this whole time.
“We’re not asking you to stay if you’re unhappy,” Paige says after a moment, her tone more guarded now.
That’s the final blow. Because she’s not fighting for you. She’s not saying don’t go. She’s just… giving you the option to leave. Like it wouldn’t really change anything. Your chest feels tight, like it’s caving in on itself, but you force yourself to nod slowly, even though it hurts.
“Right,” you murmur.
Azzi looks up at you then, something flickering across her face, something that almost looks like regret. “That’s not what she meant-”
“No, it is,” you cut in, your voice suddenly calm in a way that scares even you. “It’s exactly what she meant.”
You swing your legs off the bed, standing up quickly, grabbing your clothes without really looking at them. Your hands are shaking, but you ignore it, pulling everything together like if you move fast enough, you won’t have to actually feel any of this.
“Hey-” Paige starts, stepping closer.
“Don’t,” you snap, not even looking at her. The word comes out sharper than you expected, but you don’t take it back. You can’t. If you do, you might break. And you’re not breaking in front of them. Not like this.
You pull on your clothes quickly, the fabric feeling wrong against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you anymore. Like you don’t belong here anymore.
Behind you, you can feel them watching.
But they’re still not stopping you.
Still not saying the one thing that could fix this.
Stay.
Please.
We want you.
They don’t say it.
Of course they don’t.
You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, finally turning to look at them, and immediately wishing you hadn’t.
Because they don’t look unaffected.
That would’ve been easier.
Instead, Paige looks tense, like she’s holding something back. Azzi looks… conflicted, her brows pulled together slightly, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know how. And for a split second, it makes you hesitate.
Makes you wonder if maybe they would take it all back.
But no.You shut it down immediately. If they wanted you, they would’ve said it already. “I get it,” you say, your voice quieter now, but steady. “I really do.”
You nod once, more to yourself than to them. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t… complicate things anymore.”
Azzi’s expression shifts at that. “That’s not—”
But you’re already backing toward the door. Already putting distance between you and whatever this was. “Have fun,” you add, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.Then you turn. And walk out.
The door closes behind you with a soft click but it feels louder.
It feels like something final. The hallway hits you all at once.
People pass by, laughing, talking, completely unaware that your entire chest feels like it’s been split open. You keep walking anyway, your steps quick, almost unsteady, like if you stop for even a second, everything will catch up to you.
Your throat burnsand your eyes sting but you don’t cry. Not here. Especially not where anyone can see. You make it to the stairwell before it really hits. Before the weight of everything they didn’t say crashes down on you all at once.
You grip the railing, your head dropping forward as you suck in a shaky breath.
They didn’t choose you. They had every chance to, and they didn’t. That’s all it comes down to.
You straighten up quickly, wiping at your eyes before anything can actually fall.
You push the door open again and keep walking back to your dorm and away from them.
Away from whatever this was supposed to be.
°•○☆○•°
You know this was a bad idea before you even leave your dorm.
It starts when Lina, your roommate, yanks your blanket off you that night, ignoring the way you immediately try to grab it back like your life depends on it. You’re still drained, still sore in that quiet, heavy way that comes after crying too much and sleeping too little, and the last thing you want is loud music and people.
“Absolutely not,” you mumble into your pillow, your voice muffled. “I’m not going.”
Lina doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m literally exhausted.”
“You’re emotionally exhausted,” she corrects, already pulling open your closet like she owns it. “Which is exactly why you’re coming. You need a distraction.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows, glaring at her. “I need sleep.”
She glances back at you, unimpressed. “You slept all afternoon.”
“That was recovery.”
“That was wallowing.”
You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, the door swings open and two more girls walk in like they’ve been waiting for this moment.
“Maya said you were resisting,” tara says immediately, dropping onto your bed like she belongs there.
“Told you,” Maya adds, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall, looking way too amused.
You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my God, you called backup?”
Lina shrugs casually. “I’m not dealing with this alone.”
The girl on your bed grins at you. “Hi, in case you forgot, we’re your bestfriends. We don’t let each other rot in bed over situationships.”
You shoot her a look. “I’m not rotting.”
“Debatable,” maya muttered under hear breathe.
You sit up fully now, glaring at all three of them. “You guys are so dramatic.”
“And you’re coming with us,” Lina says simply, tossing a top at you.
You catch it automatically, staring at it for a second before looking back up. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you?”
“Nope.”
You sigh, long and heavy, like maybe if you make it dramatic enough they’ll change their minds.
They don’t.
And ten minutes later, you’re standing in front of your mirror, getting ready despite yourself, while they hype you up like it’s some kind of mission.
The party is exactly what you expected.
Loud, crowded, overwhelming. The second you step inside, the bass from the music hits you in the chest, vibrating through the floor, through the walls, through everything. People are everywhere–dancing, talking, laughing like nothing in the world matters.
You hesitate near the entrance for a second, already feeling that familiar urge to turn around and leave.
Lina notices immediately. Her hand wraps around your wrist before you can even take a step back. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
You exhale, glancing around again. “It’s a lot.”
“It’s supposed to be,” Maya says, appearing on your other side now. “That’s the point.”
You shake your head slightly, but you let them guide you further in anyway, weaving through people until you end up in the kitchen. It’s still crowded, but it feels… easier somehow. Less chaotic or maybe you’re just adjusting.
“And it always works,” she shoots back, handing you one. You take it, eyeing the liquid for a second before taking a sip. It’s strong enough to make you wince a little, but you don’t complain. You just take another sip, then another, letting the burn distract you from everything else sitting in your chest.
For a while, you stay like that. Leaning against the counter, half-listening to your teammates argue about something stupid, occasionally chiming in, occasionally just… existing.
And slowly, without really noticing it happen, you start to feel a little lighter. Not okay but not as heavy and mybe not as stuck.
You’re laughing at something Maya says when you feel it. A presence its subtle, but there.
“Hey.” The voice cuts through the noise just enough to pull your attention.
You turn your head, and that’s when you see her.
She’s standing across from you, leaning slightly against the counter like she’s been there for a second, just watching, waiting for the right moment to speak. There’s something easy about her posture, something confident but not overbearing.
Pretty doesn’t even fully cover it. Your brain registers that immediately. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s a small smile there, like she already knows she has your attention. “I’ve seen you at games,” she says, her voice steady even over the music. “You’re on the cheer team, right?”
You blink, a little caught off guard, but nod. “Yeah.”
“Thought so,” she replies, her gaze flicking over you for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re hard to miss.” That should feel cheesy but it doesn’t. It just… lands. “I’m Rhea,” she adds.
You shift slightly, setting your cup down on the counter without really thinking about it. “Y/n.”
“I know,” she says easily, and something about the way she says it makes your stomach flip.
You glance at her, a little more curious now. “You do?”
She nods toward your teammates. “They’re loud. I’ve heard your name like five times in the last two minutes.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “That sounds about right.” For a moment, the conversation just… flows.
It’s easy in a way you weren’t expecting. There’s no pressure, no overthinking, no trying to figure out what the other person means behind every word. She asks questions, but not in a pushy way. She listens. She actually looks at you when you talk.
And you realize, slowly, that you’re not thinking about them. Not about azzi nor about paige or about the way they left things.
You’re just… here. Present in the conversation, present with Rhea.
“You don’t seem like you wanted to come tonight,” Rhea says after a bit, tilting her head slightly.
You huff a small laugh. “Is it that obvious?”
“A little,” she admits, her smile softening. “You looked like you were debating escaping when you walked in.”
She’s not wrong.
You shrug lightly. “My friends forced me.”
“Good friends.”
You glance over at Lina, who’s already watching you with a knowing look. The second your eyes meet, she raises her eyebrows slightly, like see?
You roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile there when you look back. “Yeah,” you admit. “They are.”
Rhea studies you for a second, like she’s picking up on something you didn’t say out loud. “What would you rather be doing?” she asks.
The real answer sits on your tongue for a second probably curled up in bed, sluking and not thinking.
But instead, you shrug. “Honestly? Just… not being in my head.”
Something in her expression shifts slightly, like she understands more than you explained.“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I get that.”
There’s a small pause, but it’s not awkward, It’s… comfortable.
Her hand brushes against yours where it rests on the counter. Light. Barely there. But it lingers. And this time, it’s not accidental.
Your breath catches just a little, your body going still for a second as your brain tries to catch up with the moment. You don’t pull away, You don’t even think about it.
Because right now, she’s looking at you.
Just you. Not splitting her attention,not holding back, just in the moment.
And after everything It feels different, maybe even good.
“You wanna get out of here?” she asks, her voice a little softer now. “It’s kind of loud.”
You hesitate for a second, not because you don’t want to, but because you recognize the feeling. The ease.
The way it’s starting to pull you in. And a small part of you warns you, because this is how it started before.
But then you think about standing here, stuck in your own head, letting azzi and paige take up space they don’t even want.
Your jaw tightens slightly. And you decide that you’re not doing that tonight.Tonight, you’re not waiting to be chosen.
You glance over at Lina one more time.
She catches your look instantly, her gaze flicking between you and Rhea before she gives you a small nod.
Your decision settles, you turn back to Rhea.“Yeah,” you say, more certain now. “I do.”
Her smile grows just a little as she reaches for your hand–this time deliberate, warm, steady–and starts leading you out of the kitchen.
And this time you don’t look back.
°•○☆○•°
The patio feels like a different world compared to inside the house. The bass from the music is still there, vibrating faintly through the walls, but out here it’s distant enough that it doesn’t press against your chest anymore. The air is cooler too, brushing against your skin in a way that actually helps you breathe for once. You didn’t realize how tense you were until your shoulders finally start to drop.
Rhea is still close to you, closer than anyone has been in a long time without it feeling complicated. Her hand stays around yours naturally, like it belongs there, like it’s not something she has to think about or justify. She leans back against the railing and gently pulls you with her so you’re standing right in front of her, facing her fully instead of the chaos behind you.
For the first time all night, your thoughts aren’t spiraling.
They’re just… quiet.
Rhea studies you for a moment, her gaze soft but focused, like she’s actually trying to understand you instead of just filling space in a conversation. “You’ve been in your head a lot tonight,” she says gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, grounding motion.
You let out a quiet breath, your shoulders easing slightly as you lean into the railing beside her. “Yeah. It’s been a lot lately.”
She doesn’t push for details, doesn’t rush you into explaining anything you’re not ready to say. That alone makes something in your chest loosen a little, like you’re not being forced to carry everything at once.
“Whatever it is,” she says after a beat, her voice softer now, “you don’t have to sit in it all night.” The words land differently than you expect.
She doesnt say it like advice. Its more like permission, like she’s giving you a break from yourself.
You glance at her, really look at her this time, and something about the way she’s looking back at you makes your chest feel lighter in a way that almost scares you. It’s been so long since someone’s just been present with you like this—no divided attention, no emotional confusion hanging in the air, no feeling like you’re competing with something unseen.
Just her. Just you.
“I’m trying not to,” you admit quietly, your voice softer than before.
Rhea’s expression shifts slightly, something warm flickering across her face as she steps a little closer without breaking eye contact. “Then don’t.” It’s simple, but it hits deeper than it should.
Her hand lifts slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, her touch light but intentional. You don’t move away from it. Instead, you find yourself leaning into it slightly without even realizing.
The space between you closes naturally after that, like neither of you is questioning it anymore. Her hand settles at your waist, steady and warm, and your own fingers instinctively catch the front of her shirt as if to anchor yourself.
Her eyes drop to your lips for a brief second before returning to your gaze, and that small shift is all the warning you get before she leans in.
The kiss starts soft, unhurried, like she’s giving you time to decide even though you already have. There’s no hesitation from you when you respond, no second-guessing, no overthinking like you usually do. Instead, you let yourself stay there, let yourself feel it without pulling apart every detail in your mind.
It deepens naturally after that, not rushed but real, the kind of moment that builds on itself instead of crashing into you. Your grip tightens slightly on her shirt as she pulls you closer, your back gently meeting the railing as she follows you in without breaking the kiss.
For once, nothing else is in your head.
No replaying last night.
No voices telling you you shouldn’t be here. Just this, just her.
And it feels dangerously easy to forget everything else.
Inside, the energy shifts the moment they walk in. paige steps through the front door first, her usual confident ease still there as she scans the room, laughing lightly at something someone says as she passes.
azzi is right beside her, shoulder almost brushing Paige’s, moving with the same familiarity they always have, like they’re completely in sync without needing to try.
At first, everything looks normal.
People are laughing, music is loud, the party is still in full swing. Nothing seems off.Until kk pushes off the wall near the kitchen and calls out to them. “Finally,” she says casually, taking a sip of her drink as she watches them approach. “Thought you two weren’t coming.”
Paige rolls her eyes slightly, adjusting her stance as she steps closer. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
Azzi gives a small nod, glancing around the room. “Yeah, what’s the problem?”
Kk doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she just studies them for a moment longer than necessary, like she’s deciding how to say something she already knows will land badly.
Then she tilts her head slightly and lets out a small, knowing breath.
“She’s here.”
The shift is subtle at first,almost nothing. But it’s there.
Paige’s expression flickers just slightly, her brows tightening for a split second before she masks it. “Who?”
Kk doesn’t even bother pretending not to know what she means. “Don’t do that.”
Azzi’s posture straightens a little, her hand slipping from where it had been resting near Paige’s arm. “You mean—”
“Yeah,” kk interrupts calmly. “Her.”
The silence that follows is heavier than it should be in a room this loud.
Paige lets out a short laugh, like she’s brushing it off too quickly. “Okay? It’s a party. Obviously she’s here.” But her tone isn’t as casual as she wants it to be.
Azzi nods once, but her eyes are already scanning the room. “So?”
Kk watches them closely, picking up on everything they’re trying to hide. The way Paige’s attention has shifted without her meaning to. The way Azzi’s jaw tightens just slightly even though she’s pretending not to care.
“She’s not alone,” kk says after a beat.
That lands differently.
Paige’s laughter fades instantly. “What does that mean?”
Kk takes her time again, like she’s letting it sit before she finishes it. Then she adds, “She’s been with someone all night.”
The words settle in the space between them. Azzi’s voice comes out quieter than before. “With who?”
Kk shrugs lightly, but her eyes don’t leave theirs. “Some girl. Don’t know her name. They left the kitchen together earlier and haven’t really come back inside since.”
That’s when the shift becomes impossible to ignore. Paige’s posture stiffens slightly, her jaw tightening as she looks toward the back of the house. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
Azzi nods quickly, almost too quickly. “Yeah. It doesn’t.” But neither of them sounds convinced, because it does mean something.
They just don’t want to say it out loud.
Kk watches them for a second longer, then lets out a small hum. “Right.”
There’s a pause where no one speaks.
The music keeps going. People keep laughing. The party keeps moving.
But Paige isn’t really paying attention anymore. Neither is Azzi.
Their eyes keep drifting toward the back door without either of them realizing it.
And for the first time all night, the easy atmosphere between them is gone.
Out back, you’re still in your own world.
Still caught up in Rhea, still letting yourself forget.
Her hand is still at your waist, steadying you as she leans in again, the kiss deepening slightly as you pull her closer without thinking. It’s not rushed, not chaotic, just something that feels like it’s building naturally between the two of you.
For once, you’re not analyzing anything.
You’re just there.
And when she pulls back just slightly, her forehead resting against yours, you don’t move away, because maybe you don’t want to.
Where they met by chance and are enemies by choice
°•○☆○•°
The alarm had been going off for a while, but it never really reached you.
Somewhere in the haze of sleep, you had heard it faintly—more like a distant echo than an actual sound. Your phone had buzzed against the wooden nightstand in uneven intervals, the soft chime layered over it persistent but not sharp enough to pull you out of sleep.
At some point, your hand had reached out instinctively, fingers brushing across the surface until they found your phone, tapping the screen just enough to silence it before dropping back onto the mattress.
After that, everything had gone quiet again.
Too quiet.
When you finally woke up, it wasn’t because of the alarm—it was because of the light.
Sunlight streamed through your curtains in warm, heavy streaks, stretching across your bed and resting against your face like it had been there for a while. Your brows pulled together slightly as you shifted, turning your head away from it, but the brightness lingered behind your eyelids.
For a few seconds, you stayed like that, caught between sleep and awareness, your thoughts slow and unfocused. The room felt still in a way that didn’t belong to early morning, the air heavier, quieter, like time had already moved on without you.
That was when the uneasiness settled in.
It wasn’t immediate panic, just a subtle feeling that something wasn’t right.
Your hand moved before your mind fully caught up, sliding lazily across the bed until your fingers brushed against your phone. You pulled it closer, blinking slowly as you tapped the screen, the brightness making you squint.
The time came into focus.
10:42 AM.
For a second, it didn’t register. Your brain stalled, like it needed a moment to process what you were looking at, but when it did, the realization hit all at once.
Your breath caught sharply in your throat as you pushed yourself upright, the sudden movement making your head spin. Your heart started racing almost immediately, panic flooding your chest in a way that felt too fast, too overwhelming for how quiet the room still was.
Your class.
Your studio.
It started at nine.
You were over an hour late.
“Shit!”
The word came out under your breath as you threw the covers off, your feet hitting the floor quickly, unevenly. You nearly tripped over the hoodie you had dropped the night before, catching yourself on the edge of your desk before straightening again, your movements rushed and unsteady.
Your phone was still in your hand, the screen lighting up again with notifications you hadn’t seen earlier. Missed alarms stacked one after the other, followed by messages from your class group chat.
You hesitated for only a moment before opening it, your stomach already tightening.
He already started critiques 😭
No seriously why is he so harsh today
Someone had to redo their entire concept mid-class 💀
Your grip on your phone tightened slightly as you read, your chest sinking further.
Of course he was.
Of course today, of all days, was the day he decided to be extra critical.
You dragged a hand through your hair, your fingers catching slightly in your curls as you tried to pull them back into something manageable. They refused to cooperate, falling loosely around your face in uneven strands, but you didn’t have the time or patience to fix it properly.
Your bag sat half-open on the floor where you had left it the night before, papers sticking out at awkward angles, your sketchbook slightly bent at the corner. You moved quickly, grabbing clothes without thinking too much about it and pulling them on in a rush.
The beige pants you chose were slightly wrinkled, but you barely noticed, tugging them up and adjusting the waistband quickly before pulling your hoodie over your head. Your movements were rushed, almost mechanical, like if you slowed down for even a second, everything would feel worse.
You glanced at your reflection briefly as you passed the mirror, and even that quick look was enough to make something in your chest tighten.
Your curls were half-tied, half-falling, framing your face in a way that looked more messy than intentional. There was still sleep in your eyes, and the tension already building in your expression made it obvious that the day hadn’t started well.
You looked like someone who was already behind.
Already overwhelmed.
You didn’t linger on it.
Instead, you turned away and reached for your bag, shoving your laptop inside and zipping it up with more force than necessary before slinging it over your shoulder. The weight of it felt heavier than usual, or maybe that was just everything else pressing down on you.
You didn’t stop to eat, even though you knew you probably should have. The thought crossed your mind for a second, but it disappeared just as quickly when you checked the time again.
You were already too late.
There wasn’t room for anything else.
By the time you stepped outside, the air hit your face sharply, cooler than your room but not enough to calm the restless energy building under your skin. Campus was already alive, students walking in groups, sitting on benches, talking and laughing like it was just another normal morning.
It felt strange, seeing everything move so normally when your day already felt off.
You adjusted your grip on your bag and started walking faster, weaving through people without really paying attention to them. Your thoughts were too loud, overlapping in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else.
You had missed critiques.
You had missed feedback.
You were going to walk in late, and he was going to notice.
He always noticed.
Your jaw tightened slightly at the thought as you kept moving, your pace quick and purposeful. The closer you got to the building, the more aware you became of your breathing, uneven not from the walk but from the tension sitting heavily in your chest.
When you reached the entrance, you slowed just enough to not look completely rushed, adjusting your hoodie slightly and attempting, once again, to fix your hair. Your fingers pushed a few curls back into place, but they slipped out almost immediately, and you let your hand drop, knowing it wasn’t worth the time.
You pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The hallway felt quieter, the sounds of the outside world fading into something more muted. Your footsteps echoed faintly as you walked toward the lecture hall, your grip tightening slightly on your bag strap as you got closer.
You could already hear his voice from inside, steady and controlled, which meant the lecture had been going on for a while.
You paused briefly at the door, your hand hovering over the handle for just a second before pushing it open.
The room felt smaller the moment you stepped in.
You tried to keep your movements quiet, controlled, but it didn’t matter.
“Nice of you to join us.”
Your professor’s voice cut through the room immediately, making you freeze for half a second before continuing inside. He didn’t even look at you when he said it, which somehow made it worse, like your lateness wasn’t even worth his full attention.
A few people turned to glance at you, and you could feel it, that brief moment of being noticed, even if it only lasted a second.
“Sorry,” you muttered quickly as you moved toward an empty seat, your voice low enough that it didn’t draw more attention than necessary.
“I dont condone tardiness. Take a seat and try to catch up”
Amd then he simply continued speaking as if nothing had happened.
You slid into your seat and pulled your laptop out, opening it quickly and trying to follow along, but it was difficult. The lecture was already in progress, concepts being explained that you hadn’t heard the beginning of, feedback being referenced that you had completely missed.
It felt like trying to catch up to something already moving too fast.
You focused on your screen, typing what you could, even if it didn’t fully make sense yet.
“And for your next submission…”
His voice shifted slightly, and your attention snapped back to the front. He had stopped pacing, standing still in a way that made the room quiet almost instantly.
“I’ve decided to add an additional requirement.”
A wave of groans spread across the room, and your stomach dropped before he even finished.
“A full structural concept model to accompany your design drafts.”
Your fingers stilled on the keyboard as you processed that.
“That will be due by the end of the week.”
The words settled heavily in your mind, and for a moment, you just stared at your screen, blinking.
That wasn’t just a small addition.
That was hours of extra work.
Time you didn’t have.
With midterms coming up and everything else already piling up, it felt like too much all at once.
You exhaled slowly, trying to keep your reaction under control, but your hand still lifted slightly before you could stop yourself.
“Yes?”
His tone was neutral.
“Isn’t that… a bit tight with midterms?” you asked, your voice careful, not confrontational but not completely passive either.
He looked at you for a brief moment, his expression unreadable.
“Time management is part of your training. If you cant keep up, then this class isnt for you.”
The answer came easily to him, final and dismissive at the same time.
You lowered your hand slowly, the frustration settling deeper in your chest as you leaned back slightly in your seat. There was no point in pushing further.
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur, your mind too focused on everything you now had to do to properly process what was being said. You typed notes out of habit more than understanding, your thoughts looping back to your unfinished design, the added assignment, and the exams that were getting closer by the day.
By the time the class ended, your head was pounding.
Students around you began packing up, talking casually, already moving on from the announcement like it was just another inconvenience.
You couldn’t do that.
You closed your laptop and slid it back into your bag, standing up and adjusting the strap on your shoulder. The weight of everything you needed to do pressed down on you again, heavier now that you were fully aware of it.
You needed somewhere quiet.
Somewhere you could sit, focus, and actually get work done without distractions.
The library was the only place that came to mind.
As you stepped out into the hallway, you exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself.
“Just get through today,” you muttered under your breath, though the words didn’t sound as convincing as you wanted them to.
Because the way the day had already started, rushed, overwhelming, slightly out of control made it feel like it was only going to get harder from here.The library felt different from the rest of campus.
The moment you stepped inside, the noise from outside faded into something distant, replaced by a quiet that wasn’t exactly silence but close enough to feel like it. The air was cooler, steadier, carrying that familiar mix of paper, dust, and coffee that somehow made everything feel more serious.
More focused.
You slowed your pace slightly as you walked further in, your eyes scanning the space almost automatically. A few students were already settled in, heads down, laptops open, notebooks spread out like they had been there for hours. Others moved quietly between shelves, their footsteps soft against the floor.
It should’ve been calming.
Normally, it was.
Today, it just made the pressure feel heavier.
Because everyone else looked like they already had control over what they were doing.
And you didn’t.
You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and moved toward the back, where the longer tables were. The ones with outlets. You needed one—you were going to be here for a while, and your laptop battery wasn’t something you trusted right now.
Your fingers tightened slightly around the strap as you spotted an open spot near the end of one of the tables. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough to an outlet, and at this point, that was all that mattered.
You pulled the chair back quietly and sat down, letting your bag drop to the floor beside you before pulling your laptop out.
For a second, you just stared at the screen after opening it.
The blankness felt louder than it should have.
Your design file sat there, untouched since last night.
Half-finished.
Waiting.
You exhaled slowly and forced yourself to move, opening the file and pulling up your references, your sketches, everything you had managed to piece together so far.
It wasn’t bad.
It just wasn’t done.
And now it had to be more than done.
Now it had to include a structural concept too.
Your jaw tightened slightly as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you started working.
Time passed in a way that didn’t feel real.
At first, you were aware of it.
You adjusted things carefully, zooming in and out, sketching over ideas, reworking parts of your design that didn’t feel strong enough. Your focus came in waves, sometimes sharp, sometimes slipping, but you kept pushing through it.
You didn’t check your phone.
Didn’t look around much.
You just worked.
But the more you worked, the more the pressure built.
Because every time you fixed one thing, something else looked wrong.
Every time you thought you were making progress, you realized how much was still left.
Your fingers hovered over the trackpad as you stared at the screen, eyes narrowing slightly as you tried to figure out why the layout still didn’t feel right.
You adjusted a wall.
Moved a section.
Changed the spacing.
It still wasn’t enough.
A quiet breath left your lips as you leaned back slightly, one hand coming up to press against your forehead.
You were overthinking it.
Or maybe you weren’t thinking enough.
Either way, it wasn’t working.
A chair scraped somewhere behind you, breaking your focus for just a second.
You glanced up briefly, your eyes scanning the room without really taking anything in before dropping back to your screen.
Stay focused.
You didn’t have time to lose it.
You leaned forward again, your posture tightening as you forced yourself back into your work. Your fingers moved quicker now, less hesitant, like if you just kept going, something would eventually click.
You started sketching over your digital layout, adding notes, marking areas that needed structural support. Your mind shifted slightly, trying to balance both design and function at the same time.
It was a lot.
Too much to think about all at once.
But you didn’t stop.
At some point, your shoulders started to ache.
You noticed it slowly, a dull tension building from sitting in the same position for too long, but you ignored it. Adjusting slightly in your seat, you rolled your shoulders once before leaning back in again.
Your focus had narrowed now.
Everything outside of your screen felt distant.
Muted.
The soft turning of pages, the quiet tapping of keyboards, the occasional footsteps passing by—they all blended into the background until they barely registered.
All that mattered was your work.
You zoomed in again, refining details, fixing proportions, adjusting measurements. Your brows pulled together slightly as you concentrated, your lips pressing into a thin line.
You needed this to be good.
Not just done.
Good.
Because if it wasn’t—
You didn’t let yourself finish that thought.
Another hour passed.
Maybe more.
You weren’t sure.
At some point, the light in the library shifted slightly, the brightness softening as the sun moved, but you didn’t notice it right away. The only thing that pulled you out of your focus was the dryness in your eyes, the slight burn that made you blink a few times before leaning back.
You stretched your fingers, flexing them slightly before letting your hands fall into your lap.
Your gaze stayed on the screen.
You had made progress.
More than you thought you would.
But it still didn’t feel like enough.
Your design was coming together, the layout cleaner now, more intentional, but the structural concept was barely there. Just notes. Rough ideas.
Nothing solid.
A quiet frustration settled in your chest again.
You didn’t have time for this to be a slow process.
You needed to figure it out.
Now.
You leaned forward again, closer this time, your eyes scanning every part of your design like you were trying to force it to make sense.
Think.
You adjusted another section, your movements more deliberate now, more controlled. You started building out a structural framework, sketching lines where supports could go, where weight would distribute, where it should make sense.
For a moment, it started to click.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Your fingers moved faster, your focus sharpening again as you followed that small thread of understanding, expanding on it, refining it.
This could work.
You just needed to focus.
A quiet noise pulled your attention for a split second.
Footsteps.
Closer this time.
You didn’t look up.
You couldn’t afford to lose your train of thought now that you had it.
You kept going, adjusting, refining, building on the idea before it slipped away.
Your laptop hummed softly under your hands as you worked, the screen filled with lines and shapes that were finally starting to feel intentional.
Your breathing had steadied slightly, your focus locking in deeper than before.
You were close.
Not done.
But close enough to feel it.
And for the first time that day, something in your chest loosened just a little.
Maybe you could actually get through this.
You had been so deep into your work that everything outside your laptop screen had stopped existing in any meaningful way.
The library around you was still there in theory, filled with quiet movement and low sound, but none of it reached you properly anymore. Your focus had narrowed down to the exact section of your design you were refining, the structural layer you were trying to make sense of, the repeated adjustments you kept making until something finally started to feel stable.
Your fingers moved across the trackpad in steady, controlled motions as you zoomed in and out of your layout, checking alignment, shifting elements slightly, testing how weight might transfer through the structure you were building. It was the kind of focus that didn’t leave much room for anything else, not even time. You had lost track of how long you had been sitting there, only aware that your shoulders were tense and your eyes were starting to feel dry from staring at the screen for too long.
But you didn’t stop because stopping meant losing momentum, and momentum was the only thing holding your thoughts together at that point.
That was why you didn’t notice her at first.
Not when the library doors opened.
Not when footsteps moved quickly across the floor.
Not even when someone came closer to your table.
It only registered as movement at the edge of your awareness, something your brain briefly acknowledged and then dismissed because it wasn’t relevant to what you were doing.
You stayed focused until the chair beside you scraped slightly against the floor.
That was when your attention finally shifted, just a little, but not enough to fully pull you out of your work.
Someone was there.
You didn’t look up yet.
You kept your eyes on your screen, still adjusting a line in your design, still trying to refine the structure before the idea slipped out of reach again.
The presence beside you moved quickly, like whoever it was had been searching for a spot and decided on yours without hesitation. There was a faint rustling sound, the kind that came from someone setting things down in a hurry, followed by a chair being pulled out more sharply than it should have been in a quiet space like this.
You were about to ignore it completely when the movement got closer, too close, and something about the timing made your focus falter for half a second.
You finally glanced up.
That was when everything happened at once.
Nika Mühl was standing right beside your table, slightly turned as she tried to sit down, one hand holding a coffee cup that looked too full for how quickly she was moving. Her other hand was already reaching toward the chair like she was trying to secure the spot before someone else could take it.
Her attention wasn’t fully on you or the table, more on the outlet and the space she was trying to claim. She shifted her weight forward quickly, too quickly, and in that exact moment her foot caught on something near the chair, whether it was a bag or just the angle of the seat didn’t even matter because everything went wrong before either of you could react properly.
Her balance broke instantly.
The coffee tilted in her hand.
And then it spilled.
It didn’t just fall in one place. It exploded outward in a fast, uncontrolled motion, dark liquid arcing across the small gap between you before hitting your table directly. It spread across the surface immediately, soaking into papers, sliding over the edge of your laptop, and splashing down onto your lap all at once.
Your entire body jolted back in shock as the heat hit you through your pants, the liquid soaking into the beige fabric almost instantly and spreading in a dark stain that made you freeze for half a second just trying to process what had happened.
But your eyes weren’t on your clothes.
They were on your laptop.
The coffee had hit it hard, covering the keyboard, seeping into the edges of the screen, and pooling around the trackpad. The screen flickered slightly as the liquid spread, your design still visible but now distorted under a layer of chaos that shouldn’t have been there.
Your brain lagged for a second like it refused to accept what you were seeing.
Then it hit you fully.
Everything you had been working on, all the hours you had spent refining it, adjusting it, building it from scratch, was inside that laptop.
And it was getting destroyed in front of you.
You reacted immediately, pulling the laptop closer and trying to tilt it upright, your hands moving fast even though you already knew it was too late. Liquid continued to drip from the edges, and the faint sound of the system struggling underneath it made your stomach drop.
“No, no, no,” you said under your breath, your voice tight as you tried to wipe at the keyboard with your sleeve, even though it didn’t help at all.
The damage was already done.
Your design flickered again on the screen before freezing slightly, the system lagging in a way that told you exactly what was happening without needing words.
Behind you, chairs moved.
People were looking now.
You could feel it, the shift in attention around you, but none of it mattered because all you could focus on was your laptop and the realization that it might be completely gone.
Then Nika finally spoke.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she said quickly, her voice rushed and immediately panicked as she stepped closer. Her eyes kept moving between your laptop and your soaked pants, like she didn’t even know what to fix first. “I was just trying to get the outlet, I swear I didn’t think I’d trip, I didn’t see whatever was there, I’m really sorry.”
She sounded genuine.
That didn’t help.
You pulled the laptop slightly toward you again, your grip tight as another flicker crossed the screen. Your chest felt tight, your breathing uneven now, frustration and shock mixing together in a way that made it hard to think clearly.
“My laptop,” you said sharply, your voice shaking slightly but still firm enough that it cut through her words. “Do you understand what you just did?”
Her expression changed immediately, guilt flashing across her face as she raised her hands slightly like she didn’t know what to do with them.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to, I’ll pay for it or I’ll fix it or something, just let me help you—”
“Help me?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly now as you finally looked at her properly. “My entire project is on here. Everything I’ve been working on for days is on here and now it’s ruined because you weren’t looking where you were going.”
She flinched slightly at your tone but didn’t step back.
“I said I’m sorry,” she said again, softer this time, but still urgent. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I was rushing and I didn’t see the bag or whatever it was and I slipped, I can help you try to save it—”
“It’s already in the system,” you cut her off, pulling the laptop a little closer to you like that could somehow protect what was left of it. Your voice came out sharper than you meant it to, but you couldn’t stop it anymore. “Do you even know how long this takes? Do you know what this means for me right now?”
She hesitated, clearly trying to process everything at once, her eyes still flicking to your laptop like she was trying to figure out if it was salvageable.
“I get it,” she said quickly, “I really do, just let me try to help fix it, maybe we can dry it or—”
“You can’t fix it,” you snapped, finally losing the last bit of control you had left in your voice. “It’s done. My work is gone because you were rushing for a seat.”
That hit something in her expression, not defensiveness, just guilt and frustration at herself.
A few seconds of silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable, the library still watching but pretending not to.
Nika exhaled slowly, looking down for a moment before speaking again, her voice quieter.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your work.”
You stared at her for a second, your laptop still dripping slightly onto the table, your pants soaked and uncomfortable, your entire day already beyond repair.
And instead of responding calmly, instead of letting it go, everything that had been building since the morning finally snapped fully into place.
Her voice was still in your ears, still saying something about helping, about fixing it, about not meaning to, but it all blurred into noise you couldn’t process anymore. Your laptop sat there half-drowned, your screen flickering weakly, your design barely visible under the damage, and that alone was enough to shut everything else off in your head.
Your hands moved before you thought about it.
You grabbed your laptop first, careful but fast, like you were scared even touching it too long would make it worse. Then your charger, your notebook, anything that was within reach on the table went straight into your bag without order, without thought, just urgency and frustration driving every movement.
Nika was still talking, still apologising, still stepping slightly closer like she was trying to help you manage the mess, but you didn’t look at her properly anymore. You just kept packing, your jaw tight, your breathing sharp, your focus locked on getting out of there before you said something you couldn’t take back.
She called for you, trying again to slow you down, but you didn’t stop.
You shoved your chair back, stood up quickly, and slung your bag over your shoulder with more force than necessary. The soaked fabric of your pants clung uncomfortably to your skin, but even that wasn’t enough to make you pause.
For a second, you finally looked at her again, not long enough for anything soft to settle in, just long enough to make your point without words.
Then you turned away.
And walked out while she was still mid-apology with tears brimmingin the corner of your eyes.
Where kk doesnt take well to people flirting with her girlfriend.
°•○☆○•°
You weren’t supposed to be in the live like this.
You’re sitting sideways on the couch, one leg tucked under you, half-listening as Sarah holds her phone up, already mid-laugh at something in the comments. Ice is stretched out beside her, occasionally leaning in just to read things out loud and make it worse.
KK is next to you. Close. Too close if anyone was paying attention, but no one ever really does.
Her knee keeps brushing yours every time she shifts, her shoulder warm against your arm, and it’s subtle enough to pass as nothing, but you feel every second of it.
“Come here,” Sarah suddenly says, reaching over and grabbing your arm.
You barely get a chance to react before she’s pulling you forward into frame.
“Wait, no, I’m fine right here”
Too late.
Now you’re right there, squeezed between them, your face suddenly on screen, and the second you glance at the phone, you already know.
The comments are insane.
“WHO IS THAT”
“She’s so pretty”
“Tell her I said hi”
“Drop the @”
“I’m in love”
“Oh my god,” you laugh, immediately ducking your head. “No, I hate this.”
Sarah just grins wider. “They love you.”
“Yeah, they really do,” Ice adds, leaning closer to read more. “Wait! ‘ask if she’s single’—oh they’re serious.”
You groan, covering your face for a second. “Stop reading them.”
But you’re smiling, you can’t help it, even if your face is definitely warm now.
Next to you, KK goes quiet.
Not in a normal way.
You don’t look at her right away, but you feel it. The shift in her posture, the way her leg presses a little more firmly against yours, the way she’s not laughing anymore.
More comments flood in.
“KK move I need her”
“I’ll treat her right”
“She mine idc”
“ASK HER IF SHE GOT A GF”
Ice actually sits up at that. “Oh wait, that’s a good one—do you?”
You freeze for a split second.
It’s tiny, but it’s enough.
KK notices.
Sarah notices too, but she just watches, amused, like she already knows how this is about to go.
You open your mouth, about to say something vague, something safe, but then–
“She’s taken.”
KK doesn’t even hesitate.
Her voice cuts clean through everything, calm but firm enough that it lands.
The room goes quiet for half a second.
“OH???”
“BY WHO”
“WAIT WHAT”
“EXCUSE MEEE”
“KK KNOWS SOMETHING”
You turn to her so fast your shoulder bumps hers. “Seriously?”
She finally looks at you, and there’s something in her eyes that makes your stomach flip.
“What?” she shrugs. “They were doing too much.”
Sarah lets out a laugh. “You’re so obvious.”
“I’m not,” KK shoots back, but she’s already looking away again.
Ice grins. “Nah, you definitely are.”
The comments keep going, faster now, more curious, more chaotic, but KK doesn’t say anything else.
She doesn’t need to.
The rest of the live kind of drifts after that. Sarah keeps talking, Ice keeps joking, you try to act normal, but you’re hyper-aware of everything now.
Of her.
Of how close she is.
Of how she still hasn’t looked at you again.
And then finally, it ends.
Sarah drops her phone onto the couch, still laughing. “That was actually insane.”
You reach for her wrist, quick and quiet. “Come here.”
Sarah notices, of course she does, but she just smirks and looks away like she didn’t.
KK lets you pull her down the hallway without a word.
The second you’re in your room, the door clicks shut behind you, and you turn around to face her.
“What was that?” you ask, your voice lower now, but not angry. Just… a lot.
She leans back against the door like she owns the space, like she’s completely unbothered.
“They were annoying.”
“That’s not—KK.”
You step closer, crossing your arms like that’s going to help you stay composed.
“You just told everyone I’m taken.”
“You are.”
The way she says it makes your chest tighten.
You exhale, shaking your head a little. “Yeah, but you didn’t say by who.”
Her eyes flick up to yours again, sharper now.
“I didn’t need to.”
There’s a pause.
The air shifts.
You can feel it building again, that same tension from earlier, but stronger now without the camera, without the noise.
“You got jealous,” you say quietly.
Her jaw tightens just a little.
“They were talking about you like—” she stops, exhales, then looks back at you. “I didn’t like it.”
You step closer without thinking.
“You don’t like people flirting with me?”
“No.”
It’s immediate.
Honest.
Your heart stutters a little at that.
“KK…”
She pushes off the door, closing the distance completely now, her hand finding your wrist again, then sliding up your arm slower this time, like she’s not rushing anymore.
“I don’t like them acting like you’re free,” she says, voice lower now. “Like you’re not already mine ”
“Yours?” you ask softly.
Her eyes flicker.
“Yeah.”
You don’t realize how close you are until your breath mixes with hers.
“You could’ve just said it,” you murmur.
“No,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “This isn’t for them.”
Your chest tightens at that.
“For me?”
Her hand comes up to your jaw, fingers warm, steady.
“For me,” she repeats.
And then she kisses you.
It’s immediate, like she’s been holding back the entire time and finally doesn’t have to. Her hand stays at your jaw, guiding you closer, while your hands grab onto her hoodie, pulling her in like you need her just as much.
It’s not rushed, but it’s intense, every second deliberate, like she’s making a point without saying a word.
You melt into it, stepping forward until she has to adjust, one hand sliding to your waist to keep you there.
When you finally pull back, it’s only for a second, your forehead resting against hers, both of you breathing a little heavier.
“Still think I was doing too much?” she murmurs.
You let out a small laugh, even though your heart’s still racing. “Yeah. A little.”
She smiles, just barely.
But her grip on you tightens.
“Don’t care.”
And then she kisses you again, slower this time, but just as sure, like she’s not proving anything anymore.
tangentwithtanner
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